


Bliss of Killing

by DarkTrappedDesire



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Blood Kink, Lucid Dreaming, M/M, Master/Pet, Mild Gore, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 21:42:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1998909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkTrappedDesire/pseuds/DarkTrappedDesire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Marcello wanted was to have his master to himself, and have all of him, just like he'd given him from the start. He was the only one to allow his love for killing to continue, and the only one to support him in his hobby. It now had a purpose and Marcello finally had a master to serve and love, unconditionally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bliss of Killing

Hands wandered his body, leaving unbearable heat in their wake despite being cold to the touch. Dark eyes peered down at him, completely blank besides the glowing red out-iris and pupil. They sent a chill down his spine, yet at the same time filled him with the sense of security. He begged silently for whoever was hovering over him to relieve him, let this heat stop and let him fall into bliss once more. It's always the same, and always so unbearable for him that he just can't get enough of it and he craves for more the minute it stops.

But right now he feels like he's going to go insane, be driven crazy by the sense that whoever held such control over him would not let him feel such a wonderful completion, as he didn't every night.

The same ending continued. The eyes above him slowly came down and he could feel breath against his lips even though he could not see if his dark captor was grinning, frowning, sneering in disgust at the desperate male underneath him. He could never see it, and that also drove him mad, wanting to see if the being that he craved for was pleased with him.  _He must be,_ I always think,  _he keeps coming back for more._

And I hold onto that thought until he repeats the words as every other night.

**"Kill, and I will make you feel bliss."**

And just like that, the eyes go dark and he is alone. The hands fade from his body and his eyes snap open to an empty room. The only noise or showing of a person there was his own heavy breathing and the feeling of being uncomfortable in his own skin once more flooding back to him.

* * *

Marcello walked down the street. It was narrow like an alleyway but drug dealers used it as their own personal road from what he'd seen. He'd nearly been hit walking down it as well. The teen stepped to the side quickly as a group of thugs ran passed him, all trying to get away from one man that looked pissed, and his violet eyes didn't even bother to follow.

_No.. They won't please him. The last one of them had been left behind.._

Marcello kept walking, kept looking. He needed to find someone to satisfy them both. He needed to.

The feeling of a knife in his jacket pocket weighed down on him, but it also made him feel powerful. Alive with need. He let his hand wrap around it for a moment and took a deep breath, releasing his grip once he calmed his heart down and he kept walking. He couldn't look too suspicious or someone might follow him again. Then he'd have two bodies to deal with.

He didn't know what really happened whenever he got done and left, but he knew that when he did a good job, that beloved voice and eyes that haunted his dreams let him feel release that night.

After what seemed like far too long, he found someone that looked pleasing. Not to himself. No. To his exquisite, masterful overseer.

She was perfect for him to savor. As he'd done his work, now going on for 2 months, he had compiled who his lover wanted.

Dark hair, tan skin, deep brown eyes. Every time he found one of them, they disappeared faster and faster. It had now been labeled a serial killing when he turned on the television in his apartment, but he wasn't killing them for his own satisfaction, at least not at the beginning. It was purely for his lover, so he could enjoy himself and the boy, in turn, would find bliss in his hollow life.

He went up to her, and despite his appearance, he seemed innocent. She smiled wryly at him, dressed skimpily as this wasn't the neighborhood for upstanding citizens - at least not ones in their right mind. The woman agreed to show him which way to the strip-club. He already knew, though he had no reason to ever step inside. The only bliss he craved was from that neutral voice and watchful eyes.

She took him through an alley as a shortcut and he did the same as always. Tap their shoulder; turn them around; make a precise stab to the center of their mouth, coming in from under the jaw and cutting down to the center of their neck to stop the screaming before it could start. It was an art for him now, and he'd finally learned how to create a master piece.

She fell to the floor and he stood over his work, wanting to fine-tune it and make it a blooming flower instead of a withering light, but he wouldn't soil his overseer's favorite treat. He'd have to wait for the next one, one that wasn't so precious to his love.

He watched her blood flow heavily for another moment, then pocketed his knife and stepped over her, continuing on his original path so her 'friends' from around the block wouldn't see him come out without her. He walked passed to the other side of alleyway and leaned against the wall facing out onto the street. He ran a hand through his dark red locks, not natural but dyed to his liking even if his black haired-roots were beginning to peak through, giving him an even better showing in his opinion. Then his violet eyes looked at his watch to see 20 seconds had passed. When he turned and looked down the alleyway, the beauty was gone and only a dense puddle of blood had been left - letting the cops wonder later where she had gone.

* * *

He was disgusting, he thought as he looked at himself in the mirror. His appearance was pleasing, and it suited him well, but he felt dread whenever he looked at the reflective surface.

_I don't have dark hair now, my skin is too pale, and my eyes are definetly not brown.. I'm just horrid._

_No wonder he teases me so. He wants something better, and I finally give it to him on nights like this. At least I've done well, master.. I hope you will treat me harshly~_

He had stopped paying attention to his looks and now focused on his dark master's intent for the night. He'd given him his favorite treat again and if things went as they usually did, he would finally feel the true bliss he craved from the apparition he so dearly loved.

Marcello smiled gleefully, imagining it already as he crawled into bed and hugged a pillow close, letting it replace the empty feeling that would soon pass as his master had his way with him. He closed his eyes and slipped into the usual darkness, his eyes opening again to a space of pitch black.

He waited patiently. He always did for his lover. Sometimes he would wait for what felt like seconds or minutes, and sometimes he would wait until he felt sure that he would open his eyes to see daylight back in his bedroom. But he never complained and he never begged, waiting for his master to do what he wished with his body. Why act so disobedient and needy when he knew he was nowhere near as much of a morsel as those victims he'd gave to his lover? It was unheard of to him, to act so out of line because of his own needs and wants. It never got him anything during his waking hours, why would it be any different now?

The teen waited patiently, finally feeling a presence above him and breath over his lips.

 **"You're so quiet. I thought you'd passed on in your sleep."**  the desperately arousing voice said to him, making him keen silently just from hearing it and knowing something would start soon. Even the voice's breath was cool and collected, unlike his own. Hot and already a bit heavy from looking up at a pair of red eyes that appeared before him.

"I would never do that to you.. The only way I wish to die, is by finally being driven into the ground by your hands." he breathed out quietly, smiling up at the eyes with small tears of pure love in his eyes. The eyes remained unchanging as usual, and he pleaded over and over again for some sign that the one he cherished was pleased with him - his appearance, his actions, his devotion. Pleased with something the pathetic boy could and would give to him indefinitely.

They started into each other for eternity, not just Marcello's eyes. No. He could tell from the way they were looking passed him and into him, that he was seeing much more and determining what to do with him. That he was deciding how to entrust him and torment him for the night, and possibly the morning. It wasn't unheard of for Marcello to awaken only when his master was truly done with him, leaving him to open his eyes at precisely noon at the latest and best of times.

 **"As I thought. Still devoted, like the very first night."** the voice said, neutral but nearly with a hidden tone that made Marcello's heart swell. It nearly sounded like pride, or affection. And he craved to hear it again, to make his heart skip another beat and possibly stop in this moment all together so he could truly die by his master's hand, and his word was more powerful than the touches that sent electricity through his veins.

Before he could say anything, for the first time ever, his master continued to speak. He was usually silent when he pleased Marcello, and they always spoke in turns, not allowing themselves to break the pattern or silence until the next one said something, anything. This was unheard of, and it sent chills like blizzard snow through his veins to accompany the hot desire.

 **"You've done very well. Now you deserve something good."** he said, and Marcello's body shuddered as he felt something brush against his entrance. He was surprised to find that it wasn't slick or cold. He'd never taken anything from his lover dry, not even what felt like a finger - felt like, since he had never seen anything but the eyes that stared into him and knew his every flicker of desire and emotion for the being above him. It made him want more and he was already growing needy as the fingertip swirled around his naked entrance before stopping and settling there.

It drove the boy to madness but he still did not speak, afraid of upsetting the new terms their conversation was now on.  **"I have something very good, just for you."**  he said finally, the eyes coming closer until his vision was filled entirely with red instead of black and for the first time, he felt lips against his own, capturing and controlling, not letting him even think of moving without silently asking for the other's permission.

He loved it. This is new, and exciting, and terrifyingly wonderful. His lips were being kissed raw but he didn't care in the least, finally getting more contact from his beautiful, enchanting and addictive lover. He wanted all of it and he took in every feeling. His lips were chilled, just like his fingers which one was still resting on a sensitive part of him, but the way they claimed his own were hot blooded with passion and he felt so honored he couldn't handle the bliss. Finally, he felt something a bit harder against his lip and he realized that his captor must have a piercing. The thought of that metal biting into skin, especially his own possibly, sent another jolt through him and it went straight to his now weeping cock.

He finally began to whine for release, knowing his captor had never minded the pleading when it was already this far in, and he felt a grin on his lips as the kissing became more insistent. He didn't say a word, not a sound beside the whimpers of pleasure escaping him, and once again his lover was completely silent.

The hot-blooded love came to a sudden end as the lips disappeared and so did the finger, leaving him feeling desperately alone, enough for tears to quickly well up in his eyes and spill over at the thought of him doing something to displease his master. But when he opened his eyes fully, they fell out of joy. Above him was an actual form that held weight and shape to it, showing a man about two inches taller than himself, with tattoos and those dark red and black eyes he'd remembered every single, minute detail about during his time dreaming - and those powerful arms of his connected to the delicate fingers that had brought him so much pleasure in the last two months. He was fully clothed unlike the boy underneath him, but Marcello wanted to show himself to the other, to be completely exposed and vulnerable to only one being.

The body above him held a very small, almost unrecognizable grin and that was what made his tears continue to spill. Finally that grin on his lips moved so he could speak.  **"The rest of your reward is somewhere else. I know you'll be able to find it, pet."** he said before disappearing completely and leaving Marcello to suddenly be looking up at his ceiling, still praying for release. He hadn't gotten it before like he usually did when he gave him a treasure, but this was so much better. **  
**

Whatever compelled him to look to the side of his bed, at the clock that read noon to him, it was quickly thanked, as he also saw something that didn't belong to him. A simple half-mask, part of it gold and the rest of it black, with an eye painted on it that looked just like his beloved's. He couldn't contain the smile and he picked up the mask, holding it carefully and tightly to his chest as he closed his eyes and imagined his love again, in his full form, as he finished himself off quickly, crying out for him as he came and falling back on his sheets in pure happiness.

He looked at where the mask had been once he had cleaned himself up fully and examined the mask in it's entirety, finding a small slip of paper on the side-table. When he picked it up, he could read an address on it with no explanation, but he didn't need one and his eyes glued to the little signature that rested on the bottom of it.

_' -Uta '_


End file.
